Be Mine
by hbcooper
Summary: A Valentine's Day trick brings two lovers back together. Romy.


Author's notes: Hi, everybody! Just a sappy little Romy story for your Valentine's Day. This popped into my head in response to Deadpool #26 and Rogue's supposed cameo. She had been advertised to appear (in the solicits, in interviews, a romantic relationship with Deadpool was even heavily hinted at, much to my chagrin). Not sure what happened on editorial's end, but Rogue flat out did not appear in the issue, and it honestly ticked me off. But, writing this made me feel better, and I hope reading it makes you all smile as well. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Be Mine**

She tasted sawdust and mildew on her tongue, and the aging boards groaned beneath their feet as they climbed. A February chill teased her through the walls, and in the dim light of the stairwell she could see the frosty plumes of their breath and the thin slices of sky through cracks in the mortar. The Schaefer Theater, their home these past few months, had certainly seen better days. They were lucky it was still standing, even though it looked like it had been pulled straight out of a war zone.

"You gonna tell me what's going on here, sugar, or do I have t'guess?"

Rogue - Anna Marie Raven, mutant, X-Man, and Avenger – raised her voice along with an eyebrow. Ahead on the stairs, her tone slowed her companion's steps, but Wade Wilson – the mercenary known to the world as Deadpool – merely shrugged.

"Just trust me," he called over his shoulder.

Shivering, Rogue burrowed deeper into the hood of her jacket. "I must be a special kind of crazy t'trust you," she muttered.

"Maybe." Reaching the top step, Deadpool jiggled the handle on the door that led to the theater's roof, but it didn't open. "Probably." He grunted and shouldered against the door, but it still wouldn't budge. "Definitely." From a holster on his hip, he pulled a semi-automatic pistol and leveled it at the door.

Rogue grabbed him before he could fire. She didn't say a word, just gave his arm a friendly little twist to remind him of what _she_ was packing. Deadpool stepped back, and with a tap of her superstrong finger, the stubborn door flew open.

"Ladies first," he gestured, and Rogue squeezed by him, bracing herself for another shot of winter, but when she stepped onto the roof she froze, and not from the temperature. The rooftop was lit with strands of white Christmas lights, wrapped in yards of gauzy fabric. Paper cut outs of hearts and cupids joined bouquets of red roses circling a candlelit table for two. The frosty skyline of New York City twinkled above them, but space heaters had made the open air almost cozy.

It was Valentine's Day, she realized, and the rooftop was… _beautiful_. He had clearly gone to a lot of effort, and it a very sweet gesture after everything they had been through lately, but Rogue had never considered Deadpool as anything more than a friend. Neither of them had much luck when it came to romance, but with her mutant powers to absorb the thoughts and abilities of anyone she touched out of control again, Rogue wasn't even looking, least of all in Deadpool's direction.

She swallowed hard and pulled down the hood of her jacket. "Wade…" she began, but he shoved right past her and turned a slow circle in the center of the rooftop, his hands held up in the shape of a picture frame.

"What do you think? Classy? Cheesy? Does it make you weak in the knees, or does it just look like a Hallmark threw up?"

She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but Rogue needed to be honest. She took a careful step towards Deadpool and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Wade, sugar, I think that…you and I…"

An arm swung over the edge of the roof, followed by a leg, and a trenchcoat covered body that rolled itself into a standing position. They weren't alone anymore, and Rogue's heart fluttered at the sight of the man who straightened his jacket with casual ease in front of them.

"This better be good, mon ami, gettin' me out in the snow…!" Brushing strands of chin length hair from his face, Remy LeBeau – Gambit, an X-Man and an ex-boyfriend – stepped into the candlelight and paused. A slow smirk spread across his striking features when he caught sight of Rogue, that devil's grin that had always sent her blood pressure skyrocketing tugging at his full lips. "Anna?" Remy sounded as surprised as she felt.

Though she still loved Remy, they had never been able to fix whatever had broken between them. Their on again, off again relationship had been marred by years of lousy timing and trust issues, both of them so damaged that they were unable to open themselves up to the other, and that lack of vulnerability had cost them the love of a lifetime.

Except for a brief New Orleans run in where she had probably gotten Remy arrested, it had been awhile since they had been this close to each other. Rogue hated how awkward it felt to be near him now, when their love used to be as natural as breathing.

"What's goin' on here?" Remy asked, his red on black eyes traveling suspiciously over the romantic rooftop setting.

"Was wondering that myself." She returned Remy's smirk and then some, crossing her arms over her chest. It appeared she and her former paramour had fallen for a little Valentine's Day trick. When she turned her scowl to Deadpool, Wade was wearing a bow tie, and had a fake handlebar moustache plastered to the red and black mask he always wore.

"Dinner for two?" Deadpool grabbed Rogue's elbow and steered her towards the table, pulling out her chair before she could get out a word. She looked to Remy, but instead of arguing he took the seat opposite her, and reached for the bottle of champagne chilling on the table.

"I never waste a good vintage, chere." Remy's smile was an invitation she longed to accept. Pushing down the butterflies gaining traction in her stomach, she joined him while Deadpool busied himself somewhere behind them.

Using his mutant power, Remy charged the cork on the bottle. It popped with a burst of kinetic energy, and he smoothly filled their glasses.

"Still don't know how you do that without blowin' up the bottle." Rogue took a sip and let the bubbles tickle her nose.

"Practice, Anna. Ask Jean-Luc sometime 'bout his wine cellar."

They laughed together, and it felt good, but it didn't squash the butterflies.

"Were you in on this little set up?" she asked, and the smile disappeared from Remy's face.

"Were _you_?"

There it was again, trust, or the lack thereof, not five minute in each other's company. Her eyes flicked away. Littered across the checkered tablecloth were pastel candy conversation hearts that proclaimed 'Be Mine' and 'Hug Me', and Rogue fought the urge to chuck a handful of the chalky candies though Deadpool's thick skull.

A basket of breadsticks slammed onto the table between them, and the little hearts bounced and scattered.

"Oh, no you don't! Don't start this crap already! You think you geniuses could come up with a sweet plan like this? _Please._ This was all me!" Deadpool had tied a starched white apron around his waist, and angrily snapped linen napkins into each of their laps. "What, do you think love just grows on trees? Do you think everybody gets to have what you two had? That everybody's as hot as you both are? But, oh no, you just threw it all away, and now you're both wasting your time and your hot asses on garbage like little Johnny Flame-shoes," Wade grabbed her hand, "or picking up Rogue wannabees at sleazy bars!" He snatched up Remy's hand, too. "Don't you get it? You two are ratings gold - the beautiful Southern belle who can't touch, the dashing thief who stole her heart -you were voted one of Marvel's most popular couples for Christ's sake!" He mashed their hands together. "You two belong together! Stop dancing around and just give the people what they want! Make Valentine's Day great again!"

When Deadpool dropped their hands and stomped away from the table, Remy kept hold of hers and ran his thumb along her gloved knuckles. That smile was back, his trademark five o'clock shadow tracing the outline of his jaw. "It _is_ good t'see you, Anna," he said softly.

"You, too, Remy." The awkwardness was fading, the butterflies quieting, and she returned his smile. "I didn't get you into too much trouble in New Orleans, did I?"

He chuckled. "You know what the old timers say – you don't have to be faster than th'police, you just have t'be faster than your partner."

Thanks to the champagne, her snicker became a hiccup, and the pair of them let loose with a peal of belly laughs that brought tears to her eyes. She took back her hand from his and dabbed the waterworks with her napkin.

Remy gestured to her neck. "Good t'see that medicine is working for you," he said.

"Most days, anyway," she acknowledged. Since the Inhumans' Terrigen Mists had been released into the atmosphere, some mutants had been afflicted with a sickness called the M-Pox. Many had died, but so far Rogue had been able to keep the disease to a blistering minimum thanks to a medicine Deadpool had liberated from who knew where. Few people knew about the medicine, or knew just how sick Rogue really was, mainly just her Avengers' teammates. She had been on death's door when Deadpool had singlehandedly come to her rescue. It was a debt she could never repay, but something didn't smell right.

"Wait," Rogue frowned. "How did you know about…?"

Remy's eyes darted away, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. What was going on? She knew Remy and Deadpool had worked together on occasion. Could it be that Wade's miracle job hadn't been solo?

"So," Remy regained his composure and leaned back in his chair. Swinging one long leg over the other, he swirled the champagne in his glass, "you and the Torch, eh? That what it takes to get you hot these days?"

It was a classic Remy move, picking a fight to avoid a question, but Rogue's temper got the better of her. "At least he ain't some second rate copy," she snapped back.

"Isn't he?"

She opened her mouth for another tart response, but Deadpool interrupted. Wade stepped from the shadows brandishing an out of tune concertina, and much to Rogue's horror, he started to sing.

 _"Oh, this is the night, it's a beautiful night, and we call it bella notte…"_

Her eyes met Remy's. At the sight of him biting his lip to stifle a laugh, she lost it and dissolved in a fit of giggling. She tried her best to hide her laughter behind her hand while Deadpool circled around them and butchered the spaghetti scene song from Lady and the Tramp.

Remy raised his glass. "Ain't no copy that can hold a candle to you, Anna."

She clinked her glass against his. "Likewise, sugar."

His gaze sent still shivers down her spine. Rogue hated how things had ended between them. It felt like there was still so much left unsaid. They deserved a chance to clear the air, but the world had been so crazy for so long. It seemed like time was never on their side. She still loved Remy, and she was pretty sure he still loved her. He had told her once he would wait until she was ready, but between her powers going haywire again and the M-Pox, she hadn't felt like it was fair to burden him with her problems.

"Remy," she started, "about Johnny. We're not…we never…we both just needed a friend."

He finished his champagne in one gulp. "You don't need to explain it t'me, chere. Just wish that shoulder ya leaned on could have been mine." Remy stood and offered her a hand. "Hate wastin' a good song as much as I hate wastin' good wine. Care to dance?"

Her face fell. "Remy, you can't touch me. My powers…"

He smiled and tugged her to her feet and into his arms. "Let's just start with a dance, mon amour," he teased. "We'll figure out the touchin' later."

The red of her cheeks matched the dangling paper cutouts swirling all around them. Valentine's Day had never been her favorite holiday. A day reserved for happy couples finding true love, it was an annual reminder for Rogue of everything her powers kept from her, personified in the man waltzing her in graceful circles. They turned, one foot in front of the other, two halves joining together to create something larger than themselves. Always going in circles, the back and forth of their steps was the perfect metaphor for their unresolved relationship. No matter how many times Remy had told her he loved her, and that her powers didn't matter, there had always been a small, stubborn part that couldn't let herself believe him, like they didn't deserve to be happy.

But, it was just a dance, wasn't it? It was two people finding a moment of happiness, no strings, no expectations. Remy wasn't asking her for the world, and for once, Rogue was happy to let her partner take the lead.


End file.
